Sometimes You Just Feel Lucky

4/20/10: Southwest Circuit, Bolivia

We arrived in Tupiza yesterday with one goal: to book a tour to the salt flats. To you this may seem a simple enough task, but I assure you that it wasn’t. The altitude (2,950 meters above sea level) left me wheezing and gasping for air after the tiniest bit of exertion, so it was necessary for us to stop and let me catch my breath every 10 steps we walked or so. During these stops, Kevin stood next to me, kindly offering his moral support by making fun of me. “We’re not even that high! You can’t be feeling the altitude!” He’s a great guy, that Kevin Curry.

The other, and perhaps more problematic, problem was that we had done a ton of research before heading to Tupiza and still hadn’t decided on an agency to go through to book our tour. With all the horror stories we’d read online about drunk drivers and pushy guides, we were definitely unsure about what to do. It just seemed like no matter what we’d have a crap shoot as to whether we’d end up with a good guide and driver. But we had at least narrowed it down to two companies: Tupiza Tours and La Torre Tours, and we decided we would just visit both offices and then make a decision.

As we walked from the bus station to look for a place to stay (I know, we didn’t book ahead! We’re spur-of-the-moment! We’re living on the edge!), we saw a sign for four day tours in front of a place called Valle Hermoso. We stopped in and got a brochure and chatted with the very nice receptionist. Then we headed off to Tupiza Tours to take a look at their brochure. The conversation went something like this:

Z: Hello, we’re interested in a four-day tour leaving tomorrow.
TT: (unsmiling) Yes, we have.
Z: How much is it?
TT: (grunting, still unsmiling) 1200 Bolivianos each for four people, 1000 for six people.
Z: Ok, thanks.
TT: But we don’t like you. Go away!

Ok, that last sentence I made up, but really, they may just as well have said that to us. So we hurried out the door and talked with Matt and Sam, a couple we had met on the bus who we planned on doing the tour with and decided to book through Valle Hermoso and hope for the best. (By the way, when was the last time a group of four people named Matt, Sam, Kevin and Zhou was composed of two girls and two guys? Awesome, isn’t it?)

So this morning the four of us met in front of Valle Hermoso to meet our guide and driver for the trip.

Meet Maxima.

And Jesus.

Or I guess more accurately, Jesus’ shadow.

Even though they couldn’t speak English, Maxima and Jesus both tried to explain things to as much as possible. Between the four of us and our packet of information (in English), we think we were able to figure out pretty much what they were talking about. Most of the time. First impression? Maxima is a great guide and amazing cook, and Jesus is a careful and awesome driver. We got really lucky with them. Oh, and the landscape wasn’t too bad either.

Our Land Cruiser.

Fun with cacti.

Moon Valley.

Llamas.

Eating llama tamales by the grazing llamas while the car blasts Evanescence.

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Picture of the Day: Little cactus fruits.

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Bloggier than Some Stranger’s Online Journal

4/19/10: Tupiza, Bolivia

Dad, in all my years growing up you had me convinced you were irreplaceable. You were quite wrong. Today I found out a BOB is worth about 14 cents. Zhou and I bought 360 of them!

Ok, bad joke to start off this post. (Fortunately if you’re still reading this blog after 7.5 months I know you’re willing to put up with my bad jokes.) A BOB here is a Bolivian Boliviano – it was my way of saying, “Hey world, we’re in Bolivia!”

Getting to Bolivia wasn’t easy though. We took back-to-back overnight buses and spent over nine hours in a bus station eating greasy pizza, fries and empanadas. We arrived at the border town this morning at 6am, only to find out Argentinian immigration didn’t open until 7am. Then, during our 5 minute walk from Argentina to Bolivia we lost an hour and had to wait until Bolivia’s 7am to enter the country. We spent the time huddled in the cold with a row of other backpackers. Little did they realize that they had it easy.

At 7am, one-by-one they all got their passports stamped quickly, efficiently and at no charge. We, the only two Americans in the group, had to fill out several forms, fork over $140 each and wait at the window for nearly 30 minutes. I know we’ve had several large reciprocity fees (come on Obama, do something about this!), but they never get any easier to swallow.

Now we’re safely three hours inside the Bolivian border though, so I’m sure you want to know what our first impressions are. You don’t? Too bad.

[Pertinent side note: I recently spent some time reading my old posts and realized how much more I used to use ridiculous metaphors. John Grisham may suggest my writing has progressed past that stage (his early novels had more cliches than monkeys in a barrel). Me, I think I'm just getting lazy.]

• Buses here remind me a little of Nepal. They are more colorful than Ozzie Guillen’s language after a loss (or a win) and they play local music louder than the applause for a home run at a Marlins game (yes, I know that’s not very loud).
• Today’s bus ride included a man up front dancing hand puppets to the music. One puppet had an animal on the tip of each finger, and the other was a llama wearing a Santa hat and purple parachute pants. Indeed, our first bus ride in Bolivia was stranger than a random guy named Curtis that’s offering you candy in a dark alley.
• The scenery here harkened me back to the Great Rift Valley in Kenya, combined with the dustiness of everywhere in Tanzania. Soaking in the landscapes of Africa made me more tired than an overworked employee in a Goodyear factory, simply because it’s so incredibly foreign to anything I’d ever seen. The same thing happened today.
• Tupiza is how we envisioned the Wild West to be, perhaps because this is where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid died in real life (sorry for the spoiler Zhou, since you’ve never seen the movie). The possibility for a metaphor here is lower than a limbo bar on an ant farm, assuming ants enjoy the limbo every now and then.
• The biggest downside of Bolivia thus far has been the air. Not only is the oxygen thinner than the ham coming out of Kramer’s meat slicer, but the air is drier than the drought of Cleveland sports championships and something has made Zhou sneeze more than she does when sniffing pepper while she has the flu.

You could see Robert Redford and Paul Newman roaming these streets, right?

This dog's bark was much bigger than his face in this picture.

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Picture of the Day: If I were a piece of laundry, this would be a pretty cool spot to hang out and dry for a day.

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Argentina/Chile: Region in Review

4/18/10: Argentina and Chile

Top Five To-Dos

• While on a scooter, soak in the mysterious history of Easter Island
• Trek the Big Ice of the Perito Moreno glacier near El Calafate
• Walk with the penguins way down south at “the end of the world”
• Get lost in the colorful hillside houses of Valparaiso
• Pick a nice day and hike to Laguna de los Tres in El Chalten

Top Five Don’t-Dos

• Spend a cold night out on the streets of Perito Moreno (the city)
• Shortchange your time on Easter Island (even though people will tell you you only need two days there)
• Take a bike tour around the wine “country” of Mendoza
• Forget to bring snacks on all long bus rides – you never know what food you’ll get
• Expect to see a glacier on the hike to the Martial Glacier just north of Ushuaia

Top Five Things We Learned

• If you’re planning on spending more than a week in non-Brazil South America, you’ll have an infinitely easier time if you’re able to pick up on a few words. The number one thing we’ve learned here is Spanish.
• Obviously everything has to be imported to Easter Island so it’s going to cost more than on the mainland. We had no idea how much more it would be. Since you can carry pretty much whatever you want on to domestic flights in Chile, bring as much food as you can to Easter Island.
• Not much is mentioned of South America when learning about the world in school, so I honestly had no idea what to expect. What a way to begin our adventure on this continent though. Despite the hurricane-like winds, Patagonia is one of the most beautiful places in the world.
• The best way we’ve found to stay under budget is to cook your own food. While this does free up money to be used on more expensive adventures (see: Big Ice on Perito Moreno), it’s not always the best decision. When you’re in Argentina, go out and order the steak (our pick: Ahonikenk in El Chalten). The deliciousness of Argentine beef is unmatched.
• There are so many places to see and things to do in Patagonia, and no one can tell you in advance what you’ll like the best. When busing through the country never plan your tickets out more than two days in advance. By keeping your timetable flexible, you’ll be able to enjoy your favorite places more.

Kevin’s Top Five Favorite Pictures

Zhou’s Top Five Favorite Pictures

Stats

• Total days: 40
• Days over budget: 6
• Days under budget: 34
• Total dollars under budget: $314.15
• Number of stops at immigration/customs: 11
• Visits to the ATM: 10
• Cumulative ATM fees: $40.78
• Times we ate more than just bread for breakfast on the mainland: 5
• Percentage of nights spent on buses and/or the street: 15%
• Total hours spent on buses: 164.1
• Kilograms of ham and cheese eaten on bus rides: countless
• Times we were followed by a dog for at least ten minutes: 5
• Days left until Kevin’s dad meets us in Peru: 18!

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Picture of the Day: A parting shot from two of the more contemplative oversized heads.

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Faster Than a Speeding Bull… Frog

4/17/10: Mendoza, Argentina

I am like Superman. No, I can’t lift cars, chase down comets or look good in spandex, but I believe I’ve officially crossed into superhero territory. I too now lead two separate lives: there’s at-home, routine-based, Mundane Kevin and then there’s… dun da da da… Travel Kevin! Who can shoot (pictures of) lions, thwart robbers, change clothes in bathroom stalls, fly (in airplanes) and jump over canyons.

I know this was from 10 days ago, but it proves my point here.

Travel Kevin is cool, meets lots of people, sees lots of iconic places and is envied by many others. Mundane Kevin enjoys waking up to the TV, nights in watching TV and weekends off watching TV. He is not envied. And soon, Mundane Kevin will rear his ugly head. (This is just a saying – in actuality Mundane Kevin’s head is much less ugly than Travel Kevin because MK cuts his hair and shaves with some frequency.)

Zhou and I have officially planned our return date, and therefore the start of our PABRL (Period of Adjusting Back into Real Life). We’re returning on, drumroll please… July 1!

What? That’s it?! I thought you were traveling for close to 11 months, and by my math that’s not even ten!

I wish you wouldn’t be so quick to judge. September 10 – July 1 is actually exactly ten months. It’s 295 days, which is the equivalent of four non-leap-year Februarys, a March, April, May, June, July and September. But yes, although we will no longer be able to travel until July 31 as planned, we will officially have taken exactly ten months for our honeymoon when all is said and done. So how will things differ once Mundane Kevin returns and Travel Kevin as we know him is gone forever? I’ll use our day off today as an example.

The plan this morning was to go visit a lovely park about an hour’s walk away from our hostel. We had heard many great things about the park and the weather was beautiful – it seemed like a perfect day to go. We were almost halfway there and we stepped into the post office to buy some stamps for our much overdue postcards. After a long wait in line we found out that this post office (which was as big as a gymnasium) had run out of stamps. Our spirits crushed, we decided to instead go home and take the day off. We had lunch with a nice couple we met in our hostel (they had made too much soup and we were out of food), and then we spent the afternoon on the computer. At 8:30 we boarded a bus that we’d ride for the next 18 hours before connecting to another bus that we’d ride for another eight. It was a pretty boring day for Travel Kevin.

This time next year, assuming it’s a weekend and he’s found a job by then, Mundane Kevin’s office-whitened skin will probably have become too sensitive to light to do anything outdoors. Whereas a beautiful Argentinian park isn’t good enough for Travel Kevin, MK would give anything to have that experience. Come to think of it, MK would probably even love going to the post office for stamps. That would mean he had something worth mailing to someone else. But one year from now, he definitely won’t.

For lunch, MK and Grad Student Zhou will probably eat alone while watching episodes of Jeopardy! from the week. No one will offer them soup. MK would then kill time by blogging, but nobody wants to read a mundane blog, so instead he’ll sit and stare at the wall while GSZ does homework. MK wouldn’t ever consider boarding a bus for an 18-hour ride – that’s something only his superhero alter-ego would do. Besides, MK will have to get up early tomorrow to go to work. Before he goes to sleep though, MK will look back on the day as one of his most exciting in quite some time (there was, after all, an eight-day champion on Jeopardy!).

The moral of the story: enjoy Travel Kevin while you still can. I sure will.

PS – For those of you curious why we’re coming back so soon, Zhou accepted her offer to get her PhD in economics at the University of Virginia, where summer classes start really darn early. Congrats Zhou!

You may not know it from this picture, but the Getting-Into-Grad-School Monkey is officially off Zhou's back!

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Puzzles for Postcards

Where Am I? Name the country.

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Picture of the Day: Look at how excited Mundane Kevin was in the Zhang family kitchen on September 9, 2009. Travel Kevin would have never found that room worthy of taking a picture.

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Don’t Drink and Scrabble

4/16/10: Mendoza, Argentina

Mendoza being the famous Argentinian wine region, I had been eagerly anticipating our visit to the city. Visions of beautiful countryside, outstretched vineyards, quaint patios and full glasses of wine swam around in my head. Ahhhhh…

Our hostel advertised two options for seeing the wineries: a minibus wine tour (two wine tastings and one chocolate tasting) and a bike rental (Mr. Hugo’s). We opted for the bikes because (a) lots of people had said it was the best way to see the vineyards and (b) Kevin doesn’t drink, so a minibus tour would have been totally pointless to him. At least by biking we’d see a little bit of the scenery and the countryside. Right?

We hopped on a local bus and finally arrived at Mr. Hugo’s 45 minutes later. We got off the bus, and as I looked around I felt an unfamiliar sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, one I hadn’t felt much since we left on our trip. What was that strange feeling – no, it couldn’t be – but no! it was – the feeling of disappointment! I had pictured a small, dirt road with quaint country buildings periodically popping up on the horizon and nothing but grapes and more grapes in between. Instead, we were on a large road crammed with mini-markets and boarded up buildings. Trucks kept flying past us and kicking up dust in our faces. I looked all around me, but I didn’t see a single grape. Not even one! I was worried.

We picked up our bikes and a little map from friendly Mr. Hugo and rode off. My worries then became realities. The scenery was still all mini-markets and boarded up buildings. I consoled myself that at least we were riding in a lovely bike lane next to a ditch full of trash and dirty water. A few minutes later we arrived at our first stop, an olive oil/chocolate place. After a short tour we tasted some bread with olive oil, a few pepper pastes and some chocolates. Then we each had a shot of chocolate liqueur. Except by “we each” I mean I had two shots of chocolate liqueur. Kevin didn’t want his.

We left the chocolate place and went next door to the wine museum. We had missed the free tour by a few minutes so we spent some time taking pictures in sepia and black and white. Because we’re old-fashioned like that.

After 15 minutes or so, we got tired of waiting for the non-existent tour and left. We got back on our bikes, turned back onto the main road and headed in the direction where most of the vineyards were. The bike lanes, which had been the only redeeming feature of the road, ended abruptly and we were soon on a bumpy and even dustier road. “I don’t think this is very… nice!” I called back to Kevin. “It’s not!” he yelled back. “Then why does everyone do this? I don’t get it!” We rode on like this for about half an hour before we eventually decided to turn onto a side road with two wineries. I rode up to the one that was further away and contemplated it silently. Kevin pulled up beside me a few seconds later.

Z: Umm…
K: Yeah.
Z: Yeah.
K: The other one looked nicer.
Z: Yeah, definitely.

We rode back to the other winery, parked our bikes and walked up the path toward the front steps. Suddenly, a man threw open the front doors, reached out toward us with his arms wide open and shouted, “Heeeeeeeey!” with a huge smile on his face. Uh-oh, I thought. Was he expecting someone? How could he possibly confuse us with anybody he was expecting to see? Should I explain that we’re not them? Or maybe it would be better to just pretend we were the people he was expecting? Could we get some free wine this way? By the time I finished this thought process we had reached the front door and the Super Amiable Argentinian Man (SAAM) threw his arms around me and squeezed me tightly for some very long seconds. I preemptively went in for the cheek kiss, but the SAAM preempted my preemptive cheek kiss and went straight bang for my mouth. I was a bit shocked but tried politely not to let it show. He let go and turned to Kevin. Kevin looked a bit stunned. I happily pictured what might happen if the SAAM went for Kevin’s lips and wondered which of the amusing scenarios in my head might occur, but then the SAAM just kissed him on the cheek. Bummer.

The three of us did the introductions, and it turns out he hadn’t gotten us confused with anybody at all – he was just a very VERY friendly person. He ushered us inside and up to the patio. He brought me a glass of Merlot and Kevin a bottle of water.

This fellow wanted to die happily in my Merlot, but I shooed him away after the picture.

The SAAM came by every few minutes to put his arms around Kevin and rub his shoulders and ask how we were doing. I finished my glass of wine in record time. We went inside and I got a glass of the Malbec Rose, which we took out to the front and away from the amorous embraces of the SAAM. We sat underneath a trellis and opened up our salami and crackers. Kevin proposed a game of Scrabble, which I happily and tipsily agreed to. It took me a few tries to fit all my tiles into my rack. (I think somebody kept knocking them out when I wasn’t looking.) I contemplated my letters, closing one eye for a better view and some inspiration. A few minutes later I finally put down three letters: BUG, for 12 points. Kevin recorded the points and looked at me smugly. “What?” I asked. “I need to take advantage of this game,” he said.

We had only made it halfway through our game when the SAAM came out and sat down next to Kevin and put his arms around him. “We’re closing. Do you want anything else?” he asked. “Oh no, no, we’re good.” We packed up our half-finished game (which surprise! Kevin was indeed winning), I drank the last of my Rose, and we said our goodbyes. The SAAM sent us off with another hug and kiss, both a bit longer and potentially even more awkward than the first, and an empty wine bottle as a souvenir.

We got on our bikes to ride the half hour back to Mr. Hugo’s. I had a semi-irrational fear that I might fall off of my bike and into a ditch while Kevin rode away not seeing me flailing my arms and legs about helplessly, so I made sure that I rode in front of him. Despite my mental state being a bit wobbly (see: BUG as first play), my bike riding was actually very sound, so I made it back to Mr. Hugo’s in one piece. And even though the experience wasn’t what I expected at all, it still turned out great. The wine was excellent, the vineyards were very pretty once they came into view, and I never fell off my bike. Really, what more can you expect?

Oh, and once I sobered up I did beat Kevin in that Scrabble game.
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Picture of the Day: From the wine museum.

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